Coming Home
by Ma'ema'eKali
Summary: Not an actual Twilight FanFiction. This is a short story I submitted to a writing conference contest. Obviously it didn't win, so I figured why not share it with you. Enjoy!


**A/N - I posted this under my other penname also, spike8705.**

**July 9, 2010**

Two and a half years it had taken her to get to this point. Two and a half years of working herself to the bone week after week to prove she was worthy. Thinking back on the moments that changed her life, she smiled knowing she wouldn't change any of it.

**November 18, 2007**

Divorced. A label she never thought would apply to her. Yet her she was, sitting with her lawyer while her soon-to-be ex-husband signed away at the paperwork as if the last six years meant nothing more to him than some scribbled ink on a dotted line. She still couldn't wrap her mind around the reality of it all. It seemed just weeks ago they were fresh out of college, each with their separate degree. Hers was in Journalism, his, a specialist degree in Commercial Architecture. Both were ready to start their new life together. She never would have guessed things would end here.

She couldn't pinpoint exactly when everything changed, but looking back, she realized it had been coming for a while. From the start, they both had different goals. She had wanted to earn her own living, but since there wasn't a big demand for journalists where they lived, she got into real estate. This, however, became the root of almost every argument. He wanted her to stay home and be a traditional housewife and she refused. After a while, he started working longer hours and taking more business trips, effectively avoiding fighting altogether, but leaving her home by herself.

She sat there numb, listening to the lawyers divide properties and possessions. It didn't matter to her what she got in the end, though, because once everything was settled she was selling it all and starting over, maybe even getting back into journalism. She would start over in a new town, a new house, a new Josephine Cartwright, with nothing to remind her of her old life.

"Mrs. Cartwright." Her lawyer called, bringing her attention back to the present. "If you would just sign here we can finish with this unpleasant business." She nodded, taking the pen he offered. With a sigh, she scrawled her signature across the bottom of the page, effectively ending one chapter of her life and beginning another.

**January 14, 2010**

"Cartwright!" her boss at the Chicago-area newspaper called out to her, jerking her attention from her work. She sat up straight in her desk as he rounded her cubicle corner. "I need someone to cover the Haiti earthquake, and Lucy can't travel anymore because of the pregnancy. Think you can handle it?"

"Yes Sir." She replied, stunned. She had been given other stories to cover in her year and a half of employment at the newspaper, but nothing of this magnitude.

"When can you leave?"

"Immediately, Sir." She said, thankful her passport didn't expire for another two years.

"Excellent. You leave at 4 am tomorrow. Start packing." 12 hours later, she was on a plane headed south.

**January 16, 2010**

When Josie finally arrived in Port-au-Prince, all she could do was stand there, shocked at the devastation that consumed the area. Mountain after mountain of rubble littered the ground where buildings and houses once stood. There were people scrambling left and right, rushing between aid stations, trying to help those in need of medical attention, but the injured far outnumbered the help. She took a deep breath, rolled up her sleeves and set to work.

Almost a week later, her story long since written and on its way to the editor, she waved at the bus of workers that were leaving without her. She had decided to use some of her sick days and vacation time, and was staying behind for another two weeks to help. Since she had no medical training what-so-ever, all she could really do was clean up and try to offer comfort to those suffering around her.

She felt especially drawn to the children from the orphanage that had been destroyed. Seeing such helplessness in the eyes of little ones that had probably suffered so much pain and loss already was nearly unbearable. Each day she would visit and play with them, each day hoping her presence would somehow bring joy and happiness back into their lives, if only for a little while.

One in particular caught her attention. He was hard to miss, with large, blue eyes that were such a contrast to his dark skin. He would sit on the ground sucking his thumb, and stare at nothing for hours, never acknowledging a single thing that was going on around him. Her curiosity got the better of her, and when all the children were sitting down to eat one day, she asked an orphanage worker about him.

"His name is Marcel. He came to us just weeks ago. He didn't eat or speak for days but we were making progress until the earthquake. Now he is the same as before. I'm afraid he will not make it." The woman informed her sadly before turning back to the other children. It was clear she had no hope for him. Decision made, Josie approached him with a small bowl of soup and slowly sat down next to him.

"Hi there little man." She said to catch his attention, even though he couldn't understand her. He turned towards her and blinked several times.

"Do you think you can eat a little something for me?" she asked, indicating the bowl in her hands. He looked down and then back at her but made no movement to take the bowl, so she picked up the spoon and motioned it towards his mouth. He slowly took his thumb away and opened wide enough for her to slide the spoon. She watched his throat work as he swallowed and smiled, offering him another spoonful.

Day after day, she would find him in the same spot, but she began to notice that he no longer stared at nothing. His eyes would find her and follow her throughout everyday and she became more and more attached to him as time passed. He still hadn't spoken, but she knew that would come with time. Unfortunately it was time she didn't have. Her two weeks were coming to an end and she would be leaving soon. The rest of the children waved as she boarded the bus but Marcel sat in his spot, watching her with tears silently streaming down his face. It tortured her that she had to leave him behind. It wouldn't be for long though. She decided in that moment that she would do everything in her power to save that little boy who so captured her heart.

**July 9, 2010**

Being home had felt wrong without Marcel there. But that was about to change. The airport had granted her a special pass that allowed her to meet them at the gate but she was still anxious. Josie had watched the plane taxi into the gate just minutes ago and she could feel the nervousness building up inside her. Would he recognize or even remember her at all? It had only been a few months since they last saw each other, but to a child so young, that could seem like an eternity. The Red Cross workers she corresponded with told her he was eating well, but still refused to speak.

The gate doors finally opened and people began to file out, but she didn't see them. The only person she cared about had yet to make an appearance and as the crowd tinned, she began to worry. She approached the counter, on the verge of panic, when movement drew her gaze back to the gate and she froze. There he stood, sucking his right thumb as he held the hand of the Red Cross worker who had accompanied him. Tears fell unheeded down her cheeks as she watched him take in his new environment with uncertainty.

She stood watching him for several moments, and when she could move again she made her way towards them. His gaze finally turned in her direction and time seemed to stop as their eyes locked. She squatted down and for a single, heartbreaking moment he just stared at her. Then his face split in the brightest smile she had ever seen as he let go of the hand that held him and ran into her embrace. She laughed, a joyful sound after some many months of pain, turmoil and loneliness, and swung him in a circle.

"I love you little man." She whispered in his ear as she stopped spinning, squeezing him tighter. When she felt his little arms loosen from her neck, she pulled back to looked into his face and fresh tears welled in her eyes as he put his hands on her cheeks.

"_Maman._" he whispered back. "Mama" in French. In that moment, she knew she was truly home.


End file.
